


Propositions

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama/Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:58:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair confesses to Jim that he's been having problems with his advisor, and Jim wants to rush to his aid.  But Blair wants to handle things on his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Propositions

James Ellison, Blair Sandburg, and Simon Banks are the property of Pet Fly Productions and the UPN network. All other characters belong to me, but, hey, if the guys at Pet Fly want 'em, they can have 'em. This story is for fun, not profit (like anybody's gonna pay me for this). Please don't sue me, I'm poor. 

This is my first piece of Sentinel fanfic, so go easy on me, please. I'd rate it PG-13 for a little bad language and m/m overtones. No sex in this one. I'm working up to that. 

## Propositions

by P.B.  


Jim was startled by the crash of the slamming door. He'd been so busy worrying about his roommate that he hadn't heard him ascending the stairs to the loft. "Even Sentinels can get distracted," he thought, calling out to Blair. "Hey, Sandburg, don't break the door!" He made an effort to sound more gruff than he actually felt in an attempt to draw the kid out a little. Blair had obviously been upset about something recently, but he hadn't been very forthcoming with the details. Jim was getting tired of waiting for his guide to open up. He grinned slightly when he thought about the fact that Blair would never have let him go this long without spilling his guts about a problem. Funny how that "share your feelings" crap only cut one way. "Well, not tonight," he determined. "Tonight, I'm going to find out what's up with him," he decided. 

Blair heard the admonition about the door. He was standing in the kitchen with his head stuck in the refrigerator, foraging for a midnight snack. "Uh, sorry, Jim, didn't mean to be quite so loud," he called up toward Jim's room. He almost jumped out of his skin when he turned to find Jim standing behind him. He did drop the container he was holding, wincing at the thump it made when it hit the floor. "Jim, you scared the hell out of me, man," he said, a little too irritably, as he bent to pick up the little Tupperware bowl full of steamed broccoli. "A little jumpy lately, aren't you, Chief?" the older man inquired with a raised eyebrow and a sardonic grin. Blair sighed and glared in response, but Jim wasn't taking the silent treatment tonight. 

His face serious now, the sentinel said, with quiet resolve, "Blair, I want you to tell me what's wrong, and I'm not taking no for an answer." That had been the wrong cliché to use. The younger man's eyes blazed as he angrily spat out, cryptically, "You, or anybody else, it seems!" Then he stalked off to his room before a stunned Jim could move to stop him. The sound of a second slamming door in one night jarred him from his reverie. He walked over to Blair's bedroom door and knocked before trying the handle. Locked, of course. Why should this be easy? Suddenly, he heard the sounds that made his heart almost stop in his chest. Blair was packing. From the sound of it, he was throwing everything he owned together in his bags. "Oh, God, please no," Jim thought, as the lump began to form in his throat. 

"Hey, Chief,"he began lightheartedly. He thought better of it and decided to play it straight with the kid. He would be devastated if the young man left, and he hoped that putting those feeling into his voice might convince him to stay. He was beyond caring if he sounded desperate. He *was* desperate. He continued speaking, quietly now, "Blair, please come to the door. I can hear you packing. You don't have to tell me anything." Things continued to be tossed into bags. "I'm scared, Chief,"his voice cracked. But it was working. Blair had stopped moving. He was listening, now. "YES!" Jim thought, closing his eyes. Aloud, he continued, "I know I don't ever tell you this, but I don't know how I'd get by without you around. I've gotten used to you. I never would have thought you could, but you've grown on me." He chuckled a little at that. 

At that moment, Blair opened the door and stared down at him, with a shocked expression. Jim suddenly realized that he had slid down into a sitting position with his back to the wall while he had been talking. He also noticed, quite unexpectedly, that he had started to cry. The young student knelt in front of his friend and touched the tip of his right forefinger to Ellison's moist cheek. "What do you know? Big, tough-guy cop, James Ellison, was sitting here crying over *my* impending departure," he thought. He smiled affectionately at the older man as he stood up and held out a hand to help Jim up as well. Jim took the hand and pulled himself up off the floor, while reaching up with the other hand to swipe at the remnants of tears on his face. Maybe he held on to Blair's hand a moment or so longer than necessary. "Big deal," he thought, "after that ordeal, the kid can spare me a little lingering touch of his hand." Jim was unaware of how much Blair wanted the comfort of that touch. It had ended too soon for him as well. 

"Okay, Big Fella, I guess I owe you an explanation after the way I've been acting lately. You go sit down. I'll get a couple of beers from the fridge, and we'll talk. I really need a drink if I'm gonna get into this." Jim, very satisfied that he was getting his way on this one, willingly complied with his housemate's request. 

Blair re-entered the room and handed Jim a beer before sitting down and heaving a big sigh. He held his head down and began speaking. "You know, my dissertation advisor passed away recently." He glanced up at Jim, who nodded in confirmation that he remembered. "Well, I'm having a few problems with the new guy they've assigned to work with me." Blair glanced up again, and Jim suddenly had the idea that this explanation was going to take forever if the kid had to keep looking at him after every sentence. Then Blair continued, "At first, it was pretty innocent-just a hand on my arm or shoulder. It wasn't any more than you do -- just friendly stuff." Jim's brow furrowed as he began turning the implications of his partner's words over in his head. He was glad Blair hadn't looked at him this time. "Then he started hovering over me at my desk and touching my hair. When I finally worked up the nerve to say something, he didn't deny having feelings for me. In fact, he took the opportunity to make it quite clear that he wanted more than a friendly relationship. Blair was fidgeting in his chair now, and did take a moment to pause and check his friend's reaction. Jim had a slight frown, but otherwise looked pretty impassive as always. When he saw Blair staring and obviously trying to gauge his response, he smiled and said, softly, "It's okay, Chief, I'm listening. Go on." 

"Yeah, okay, well...um, Jim, do you know how important his recommendation is to my research?" He looked up to see Jim shake his head. "Let me just say that he can make or break me as far as that dissertation goes. He told me that's basically what it boils down to." He heaved a huge sigh and continued, "When I told him I wasn't interested, he told me I'd better get interested or he'd see to it I lost my grant next time it came up for renewal. That's in one month, Jim. If, as my advisor, he says to the committee that my project has no merit, they won't be inclined to renew my grant. That fellowship is what I live on, Jim. He's gonna take that away if I don't...," Blair looked up now with frustrated tears gleaming in his eyes. He was angry, but he was also frightened. He didn't know how he would live without the money from that grant. He couldn't exactly ask Jim to support him. The man was already letting him live in the loft rent free. 

"What's his name, Chief?" Jim asked, calmly. A little too calmly, in fact, Blair worried. "Why?" the younger man questioned. "Because," Jim smiled, but it didn't diminish the predatory gleam in his eyes, "I'd like to have a word or two with him." Blair could see the anger clouding those usually beautiful blue eyes. Though the young anthropologist knew the icy stare wasn't directed at him, it still caused a shiver as he involuntarily cast his own ocean- blue eyes downward. He focused on the hands clasping and unclasping nervously in his lap. He couldn't look at Jim's expression right now. There was too much naked fury there. The sentinel was in full "Blessed Protector" mode now, and Blair thought if that jerk of an advisor were here right now, Jim would probably do him bodily harm. 

Blair had no idea how right he was. Jim was livid. How dare someone threaten his Blair. "Get a hold of yourself, Ellison," Jim thought. "The kid doesn't belong to you, and he never will." However, he also didn't belong to that bastard who was trying to threaten him with the loss of the grant. Jim knew he had to put an end to this guy's harassment of his roommate. He would talk to the asshole in question and try not to break any of the man's bones in the process. It wouldn't be easy to control his temper. It never was when Blair was threatened or hurt, but he would try for the kid's sake. Jim could see that the smaller man had obviously noted the anger playing across the cop's face, and it had caused Blair to avert his gaze and fidget with the hands in his lap. Jim knew he needed to put the young man at ease if he was going to get that name the easy way. 

Blair's attention was so focused on rubbing his hands together that he didn't even hear his partner get up and come over to him. It shocked him when Jim knelt on one knee in front of him and covered both the anthropologist's busy hands with one big paw of his own. The intimate gesture was so tender and strong that it stilled the younger man's nerves immediately. He wanted to clasp that hand in both of his and bring it up to his lips, but he didn't dare. No way would his tough cop friend put up with that. So he just sat still and enjoyed the lingering touch of that strong hand on his. 

"Chief," Jim started softly, with all the anger gone from his eyes, "I won't hurt him, no matter how much I'd like to, right now." Blair looked into his eyes now as Jim continued. "He's got no right to make demands like this on you. It's harassment, and it's illegal. I'm just gonna explain that to him -- very firmly." Jim couldn't help but grin when he spoke those last two words. This time the smile did reach his eyes, and Blair responded in kind. Then the young man lost the grin as he said, "Julian Cameron."   
  


* * *

James Ellison strode down the hall of the anthropology department like a man on a mission. He was. He was on a search- and-destroy mission, and his target was one Dr. Julian Cameron, Ph.D. Well, maybe "destroy" was too harsh a word for it. But he was going to destroy the man's hold on Sandburg. The harassment was going to end here and now. 

After he had ascertained from Blair that Cameron didn't know anything about Sandburg's association with the police, Jim knew his job would be simple. He'd put the fear of God into this guy, but good. Finally, he found the door he wanted and knocked. "Come in," came the voice behind the door. 

As Jim walked in, he made a visual appraisal of the man standing next to the filing cabinet. His height and body type were set at an almost perfect midpoint between Jim and Blair. If the three men were standing next to each other, they would resemble stair steps. Even his hair was cut midway between Ellison's buzz cut and Sandburg's long locks. It was a sandy colored mop of unruly cowlicks that extended just below the man's collar. His face was unremarkable and carried a somewhat haughty expression. The eyes caught Jim's attention, though. They were cold. Jim had seen this look beforewhat cop hadn't at one time or other. This was a sociopath if Ellison had ever seen one. He had no hint of humanity in those bespeckled eyes. This was Jim's first clue that his mission might be more difficult than he had anticipated. This man wouldn't be a push-over. No, men like that didn't back down when they wanted somethingno matter the risk. Cameron would probably keep hounding Blair until Jim arrested him for harassment. Jim resisted the urge to slam a fist into the man's face as he stepped forward to address the errant professor. Ellison was determined to do this "by the book" so there would be no questions when the arrest came. 

"Dr. Cameron?" Jim asked, almost hoping he had the wrong man. "Yes, may I help you?" the cold eyes raked over Jim's large frame and prompted a look of irritation on the face of their owner. Julian really didn't care for the big, muscle-bound type of man now standing in his office. His tastes ran toward younger, smaller, more stream-lined men. He was supposed to have a meeting with one of those men in an hour, in fact. He had decided to step up his pursuit of Blair Sandburg by scheduling a meeting to discuss the young man's dissertation topic. He had known by the sound of Blair's voice this morning that the grad student wasn't buying the "discussion" scenario. Well, that didn't matter to Julian. He always got what he wanted, and this would be no exception. Now, to get rid of the Neanderthal presently taking up breathing space in his office. 

"No, you may not, but you might help yourself if you listen to me," Jim said, tersely. He continued before giving Cameron a chance to reply. "Blair Sandburg functions as an official observer with the Cascade Police Department, and I'm his partner, Detective Jim Ellison." He flashed his badge for emphasis, and Cameron grew momentarily more pale. Jim pressed on, moving his body closer to the smaller man, forcing Cameron to look upwards to meet Ellison's icy stare. "In addition to being my partner at work, Blair is also my roommate and best friend. In fact, he's like a little brother to me, Dr. Cameron, and I don't react well when people threaten him. You are harassing him, and I want it stopped. This is the only warning you will be receiving, Cameron. If you don't lay off, I'll be back with an arrest warrant. If you want to play these games, play 'em with somebody else." Jim had moved in closer and closer as he spoke until he was almost nose to nose with Cameron as he growled his last sentence, "Sandburg's off limits." 

Jim was hoping his imposing physical presence and no-nonsense manner would do the trick, but he was doubtful. His instincts were correct. Julian was annoyed, but hardly deterred. In fact, he loved the idea of teaching that stupid, macho cop a lesson. He didn't think Sandburg would have what it took to press charges, and the cop couldn't do anything to Julian without Sandburg's willingness to testify. He'd get what he wanted, and the Neanderthal be damned. At that thought, he smiled up at Ellison and quipped, "Will that be all, officer?" 

"Detective,"Jim snapped. "And from your attitude, I'd say that's hardly all. Apparently, you're determined to take this as far as it will go, but I warn you, if you try anything else with Blair, this will not end well for you." With that, Jim turned and stalked out of the office and down the stairs to the little artifact storage closet that served as Blair's home away from home. 

Jim tapped lightly on Sandburg's door before entering after hearing a barely audible grunt from the other side of the wooden barrier. He stepped into the little room to find his young friend almost buried under a mountain of papers. When Blair looked up, he couldn't suppress his grin at the look on Jim's face. "And they say *my* face is expressive," he thought, noting the revulsion his partner clearly felt at the state of disarray that was Blair Sandburg's working environment. Aloud he said, "Hey, big guy, did you make any new friends today?" Not even giving Jim a chance to reply to the obviously facetious question, he continued. "I sure hope so because I have a meeting with him in a little over half an hour from now, and I'd like to think it'll be all business." He looked up at the older man with a smile that said he trusted Jim to take care of everything. Ellison didn't miss that look and hoped that he would always be the recipient of that kind of blind trust from his partner. At times it felt like too awesome a responsibility, but he knew it was one he would always cherish. Unfortunately, he knew he had bad news for the kid this time. 

"Chief, I don't think anything short of a jail cell is going to get through to that guy," Jim said as he watched Blair's face fall. "If you want, I'll wait outside the door to his office while you have the meeting so I can arrest him the minute I hear him cross the line." Blair smiled at the offer, but refused, saying, "No, Jim, I really need to handle this on my own if possible. If you arrest him, and I press charges for harassment, he might say it was because I knew he was going to recommend against me. Having sentinels as a research topic makes keeping my grant a difficult proposition at best, but if there were even a breath of scandal, they'd drop me like a hot potato. Then he still wins." 

Sandburg was giving him a look that pleaded for understanding, so Jim grudgingly capitulated. He never could refuse the kid's puppy look for long. He just hoped he didn't regret this decision. "All right, Sandburg, how long do you expect this meeting to take?" Blair, knowing he was going to get his way with this one, answered, "No more than forty-five minutes. I want to get in and out of there as fast as possible." Jim made up his mind. "Okay, Chief, you go to your meeting, but you come straight back to your office afterwards. I'll be waiting for you, and if you're not back in one hour, I'm gonna assume the worst and come up there to wring his neck. Understood?" He looked pointedly at his young friend to punctuate his statements. 

"Yes, sir, Detective Ellison, sir,"Blair said with a flourish and a snappy, but awkward mock salute. He grinned widely at Jim, who lifted a hand to cuff him lightly on the back of the neck, while returning with a grin of his own. "Fine, Junior, and after we're done here we can go out to dinner." As he held up a hand to the protest forming on Blair's lips, he continued, "My treat." At that, the protest Sandburg was about to make regarding his lack of cash so late in the month was forgotten, and Jim was rewarded with another one of those megawatt, patent-pending Sandburg smiles. It absolutely melted the big detective's heart, and he sighed as he watched Blair head off to the lion's den without his "Blessed Protector" in tow. But he knew he had to respect his friend's wishes. Besides, he knew Blair was right about Cameron. That cold, calculating bastard was just the type to try and make it look like Sandburg was falsely accusing him in retaliation for a potentially damning recommendation to the grant committee. There had to be another way, and Jim was determined to think of it. 

Blair was dreading this meeting more than he let on to Jim. He knew he'd never do what Cameron wanted, even if it meant losing his grant. But there was something about Julian Cameron that frightened himsomething about the man's eyes was just not right. It was like there was no soul behind them. It always made Blair inexplicably chilled to look into those eyes. "Well, at least I know Jim's downstairs in my office," he thought. It always made him feel warm and safe to know Jim cared so much about protecting him. He knew he had managed to care for himself quite sufficiently before he met Jim Ellison, so it wasn't really the protection itself he needed; it was the fact that this tough cop and ex-ranger *cared* about him so much that protecting him had become an obsession. Blair craved those moments of closeness they shared whenever Jim saved him from some dire straits into which he had fallen. The fact that most of the danger he'd experienced was a direct result of his association with the sentinel was a moot point. He'd walk through the fires of Hell for James Ellison without a moment of indecision. He just never wanted to be separated from him. He had sensed that the big guy felt the same for him. Blair figured he would be able to stay near, if not with, his sentinel for the rest of his life, as long as he didn't screw it up by letting Jim know the extent of his feelings for the older man. If terminally straight Jim ever found out that his roommate was ass over tea-kettle in love with him, Blair knew he'd be out on his cute little butt in a heartbeat, guide or no guide. 

Blair's reverie was interrupted when he realized he had approached the door to his tormentor's office. "Well, better get this over so I can be wined and dined by the man of my dreams," he thought with a snort. "Yeah, right, Sandburg, *only* in your dreams," he sighed, shaking his head slightly as he rapped his knuckles on the heavy wooden door to Cameron's office. "Come!" came the energetic sounding reply from inside. Blair entered with a great deal of trepidation and moved to stand in front of the desk. Cameron stood when he saw who was coming in and, starting at Blair's feet, soaked up every inch of the young man with his eyes. When those eyes got to Blair's face, and the young grad student caught sight of the naked lust behind the usual coldness in them, it made the anthropologist shiver slightly. Cameron took notice of the smaller man's reaction and grinned at Blair with a predatory intensity. Suddenly, Sandburg wished vehemently that he had taken Jim up on his offer to wait outside the office and listen in to the meeting. Blair had a very bad feeling that this wasn't going to be a good scene. His worst fears were realized when Cameron walked past him to lock the office door.   
  


* * *

Jim sat at Blair's desk absently thumbing through a copy of Anthropology Today. "Yak! How can someone so full of energy get into reading something this dull and lifeless," Ellison thought, dropping the periodical back onto the stack from whence it came. He was about to try and find something else to read when he heard a knock at the door. "Come in," he replied, amiably. He immediately recognized the pretty red-haired woman who poked her head in the doorway. "Hey, Cyn," he said with a bright smile. "Sandburg's not here right now, but he'll be back soon. Would you like to have a seat on a pile of papers and wait?" He snickered at his own joke as she grinned and nodded. Cynthia was a doctoral candidate and teaching fellow like Sandburg. Her area of expertise was psychology, and she was extremely insightful. She was also one of the few friends Blair had who didn't bore Jim to the point of eating his service revolver to avoid a conversation. Besides being very attractiveshe bore an uncanny resemblance to the actress who played Dana Scully on The X-Files, and people were forever doing double-takes when she walked pastshe was also exceptionally bright and perceptive. But Jim was struck by how graceful and lovely she was as she shifted some papers off one of the office chairs and took a seat, crossing her legs. He estimated her height at about 5'8", and most of that was leg. She had the nicest legs Jim thought he'd ever seen. If he weren't so overwhelmingly attracted to his own partner, Jim realized, he would find this woman almost irresistible. But there was the rub. His heart and soul belonged to a man he could never have. Why did the love of his life have to be a straight man with a harem of girlfriends waiting in the wings? He suddenly realized he had been ignoring Cyn for his own morose thoughts when he heard her tactfully clear her throat. 

Jim looked at her sheepishly and apologized. She merely smiled and told him she didn't expect him to entertain her. When Jim looked at his watch and frowned, she inquired, "What time are you expecting him?" "He's only been in Cameron's office five minutes, and he said it would take about forty-five," Ellison replied with a sour expression. "Oh, no!" she gasped. "That's what I was coming to see him about." She continued as Jim's expression changed from sour to anxious. "Blair confided that he was having problems with Julian Cameron, and asked me to see if there had been any other complaints. After talking with several of the other employees of the student counseling center, I found a pattern to this man's actions. Because of the confidentiality issue, the counselors hadn't discussed these isolated cases with each other. But when I started asking pointed questions, I found that Cameron does this a lot. He harasses a student until the young man confronts him. Then he issues an ultimatum. The students are always in his classes, so all he has to do is threaten to fail them. If they go along with him, everything works out okay, and he passes them with flying colors. Then he never bothers them after semester's end. It's when they refuse that there's a problem.. He's sexually assaulted at least three students. He invites them to his office, locks the door, and rapes them at knife-point. None of the students have lodged formal complaints because they were too humiliated, and we couldn't initiate any action because of patient confidentiality. However, that issue went out the window for me when I realized Blair was in some very real danger. I was coming to tell him to stay the hell away from this guy, and now you tell me he's with him." Jim had stood up halfway through the conversation and started walking toward Cameron's office with Cyn following dutifully behind him. When she had finished, he started run. 

Blair had frozen when Cameron locked the door and turned to face his young prey with a knife in his hand. The grad student's blood had run ice cold when he saw the blade. Sandburg knew he had to move fast, but his body wouldn't cooperate. He stood frozen while the monster with the gleaming blade advanced on him. Then, suddenly, the ice melted, and his limbs decided to do his bidding. Blair picked up a large book from the professor's desk and heaved it at him. Then he ran around to the opposite side of desk, placing it between him and his attacker. With all his might, he shoved the desk toward Cameron, trying to cage him behind it. It didn't really work, but it gave him a moment to get to the door. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to unlock it quickly enough, and Julian was upon him from behind, holding the knife to his back. Blair froze againthe monster had him. He screamed Jim's name as Cameron pushed him toward the couch. 

Ellison heard his partner screaming for him, and he heard the bastard backhand him for it. It was at that moment that Jim came to a halt outside Cameron's office door and drew is weapon from the holster hooked to his belt. With a blind rage and fear for his guide's safety, he kicked the door in and yelled, "Freeze!" Cameron didn't. He started plunging the knife blade toward Blair's chest and Ellison stopped himpermanentlywith a bullet to the brain. Jim immediately moved over to the couch and shoved the dead man off his partner's shaking body. Jim replaced his gun in the holster and scooped his young friend up into a tight embrace. Blair calmed immeasurably in the strong arms of his sentinel, and he buried his head in Jim's chest while tightening his own arms around the man's waist. "Yes," Blair thought, "this is good. I can stay like this forever." As he nuzzled closer to Jim, the sentinel was thinking the same thing, but neither man spoke his feelings. As Cyn watched the beautifully simple display of raw intimacy, she made a mental note to see what she could do to cultivate this relationship that was obviously meant to be.   
  


* * *

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